Neither hearing nor seeing,
The spider is the guest.
Feeling the vibrations,
to catch the little pests.
A web of silky thread not visible
to the eye.
It works just like a dream,
to catch the passing fly.
Neither touching nor smelling,
The spider is the guest.
It sometimes gives relief.
To our vain imagination,
The spider is a belief.
With all the expectation,
a web will the mystery spin.
A web of uncertainty
will slowly draw you in.
Use common sense,
Time is too precious to waste.
Hear, see, touch and smell
before you taste.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem